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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458922">Undead Like Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiaCalls/pseuds/LamiaCalls'>LamiaCalls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Adult Wednesday Addams (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampires, paranormal horror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:02:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiaCalls/pseuds/LamiaCalls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wednesday deals with a little vampire problem, and bumps into an old ghost, so to speak.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wednesday Addams &amp; Brian (Adult Wednesday Addams)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Multifandom Horror Exchange (2020)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Undead Like Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_M/gifts">Miss_M</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The churchyard was quiet when Wednesday entered, a thick mist drenching the headstones. She took a deep breath, smelling the rot and fresh-turned loam. It smelled like home. The gate whined close, rusting and old as it was.</p><p class="p1">On her shoulder, a duffle bag, and in her hand, she clutched a wooden stake. She had sharpened it only that morning; her supply had been dwindling of late. It was a constant surprise how many vampires seemed to populate Los Angeles. She knew that there were many <em>metaphorical</em> vamps about the place, but actual blood-sucking creatures that stalked people in the night? In her experience, they preferred more northern climbs, places that had dark winters and overcast days.</p><p class="p1">The only thing she could figure was the fact that Los Angeles was quite accepting of certain transgressions. People were “eccentric” rather than “strange”, as long as they stuck to the major social conventions. So vampires, Wednesday assumed, passed easily as long as they played nice with others.</p><p class="p1">Luckily for her, most of the vampires she’d encountered were young enough to be sloppy and careless still.</p><p class="p1">But the most recent one had proven a little more difficult, it was true. Young vampires often drunk from their enemies first, and so she could usually track them out through a legacy of spite. The problem was that this one had decided to only kill rats and small animals, which didn’t give her as much to go off.</p><p class="p1">That was good. It had been getting almost too easy, and Wednesday was a woman who liked a challenge.</p><p class="p1">She moved through the graveyard quietly. This one had chosen a good home; she approved. The church that loomed over her was pseudo-gothic. While she was quite sure the cracked brick and creeping moss was actually faux, probably added for a movie being filmed there at some point, it was still a much more suitable abode than the vampires she had found sleeping in unplugged tanning beds or in the UCLA dark room.</p><p class="p1">There was a chill in the air that cut through her vintage dress. She passed tombstone after tombstone, glancing to take in names as she went. The graves were silent — as was Wednesday. All those times she and Pugsley had played tag with garrotes as children had left her light-footed. It’s why Pugsley still had scars on his neck while hers was unblemished.</p><p class="p1">She walked past the church. She was much more interested in the mausoleum to the side of it, whose door was ajar. It was a stout building, blindingly white in the darkness, and without much adornment. No huge weeping angels or menacing grotesques in sight. There were only a few graves around it, wonky with age. During the day, she supposed, this area would be covered by the shade of the church, and so it was seemingly less popular, especially for those with the money to lie dead in the sun.</p><p class="p1">She pushed the door open. The warped wood creaked, louder than she would hope, but she paid it no mind. A vampire would need to be at the very top of its game to beat her even without the element of surprise.</p><p class="p1">And feeding oneself on the blood of small animals was the act of a desperate, pathetic vampire who had little idea what they were doing, so she needn’t be worried.</p><p class="p1">The mausoleum was dark, but she had come prepared. From her kitbag, she pulled a small torch, and lit it. It went up in a glorious orange flame, its warmth flushing her face. While her night vision surpassed most, there was something to the ceremony of holding a torch. Plus, it was useful for threatening vampires with.</p><p class="p1">She took the stairs carefully, the stone work still immaculate. Not a sign of wear anywhere. Clearly whoever had occupied the space before the vampire moved in was rich but little cared for — though that described a lot of people in that city.</p><p class="p1">From the bottom of the stairs, the mausoleum opened up into a small stone square, with a heavy stone coffin the centre. The walls were adorned with carvings, but the torchlight made them difficult to decipher.</p><p class="p1">She was surprised to find it so quiet down here. The sun had set almost an hour ago — only needing to work late had kept her from coming earlier — and most vampires were up by now. Unless, of course, she had missed her shot. She hoped not: she did not much fancy waiting all night for the vampire to return, more pets killed in the process.</p><p class="p1">She stepped around the body of a blood-let rat and paced to the coffin. She swept a hand along the corner of the stone: a tiny amount of dust came with it, but it was enough to tell her that it was likely her instincts were right the first time (as they so often were): her vampire friend had not yet roused.</p><p class="p1">She put down her bag, and slung the torch into the sconce on the wall. Still holding the stake, she put her shoulder against the heavy stone lid of the coffin, and pushed. She may have been a slight woman, but she was powerful and strong. The stone budged only slightly at first, but then further, and further still, until the vampire was revealed within.</p><p class="p1">She straightened quickly — she wanted to stake them before they woke up.</p><p class="p1">But as she raised the stake above her head, she realised she recognised the vampire sleeping within.</p><p class="p1">And in the moment of hesitation, the vampire’s eyes opened and he blinked up at her, at first frowning, possibly surprised to see someone holding a stake above him, but then surprised.</p><p class="p1">“Wednesday?” he spluttered. “Oh my god, Wednesday!”</p><p class="p1">For a second, she contemplated whether it would be easier to just plunge the stake into his heart rather than actually talk to him. But then the moment had passed, and he sat up, held his arms out.</p><p class="p1">“Whoah, what are you doing?” He took her in, then looked back at the stake. “Were you about to <em>kill</em> me?”</p><p class="p1">“I was hoping to, yes,” Wednesday said. She lowered her arms, sighed. “I suppose I could give you a moment to collect yourself, ready yourself for the other side.”</p><p class="p1">Brian’s frown deepened. “Wait, you’re <em>still</em> gonna kill me?”</p><p class="p1">“You’re a vampire, Brian,” Wednesday said. “So, yes.”</p><p class="p1">“Hold on, hold on!” he said, scrambling out of the coffin to stand in front of her. “I only killed some rodents! I’m not a threat to anyone.”</p><p class="p1">“And what about the dogs and cats that have turned up dead?”</p><p class="p1">He grimaced, and had the decency to look embarrassed. Had he had any blood in him, she thought that he probably would have blushed.</p><p class="p1">“I was really thirsty, you know,” he said. “I only killed a few!”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, and one of them belonged to my neighbour’s daughter, Lily. You murdered her shih tzu, Petunia, a few days ago. She was inconsolable.”</p><p class="p1">“Man, that sucks. I’m sorry I upset her but—“</p><p class="p1">“No, Brian. Vampires who drink from the unsuspecting need to be vanquished. You’re a menace to society.”</p><p class="p1">“Well! Who’s going to let me drink if they <em>knew</em> I was a vampire?”</p><p class="p1">“You would be surprised at how many people are very interested in having their blood drunk,” Wednesday said flatly. “Why, my second cousin is a vampire and sustains herself nicely on nothing but adult goths.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay, okay,” he said quickly. “Well, then I’ll start doing that!”</p><p class="p1">She sighed. “It’s too late for that. The damage is done.”</p><p class="p1">She began to raise her stake again, but he waved his hands at her.</p><p class="p1">“Hang on!” he said. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. What she had ever seen in him, she couldn’t say. Really, he was nothing like he had been in their previous shared life. “Is there anything I can do to make you reconsider?”</p><p class="p1">She thought for a moment, searched her mind.</p><p class="p1">“You could turn yourself in. I have some family who work with supernatural beings to ensure you’d get a lovely little cell that was always dark, and two square blood bags a day.”</p><p class="p1">His grimace deepened and he gave a nervous chuckle. “Um, <em>anything</em> else other than that? It was just a few measly dogs!”</p><p class="p1">“No,” she said finally. “Vampirism, if not contained and well-managed, is just plain murder. And just because they were <em>dogs</em> doesn’t mean they didn’t have value.”</p><p class="p1">And, thought she was loathe to admit it, she really had been quite fond of Petunia, and enjoyed all of Lily’s frantic ramblings about her precious shih tzu.</p><p class="p1">Brian hesitated for a moment, his hands clenching into fists and then unclenching. Finally, he let out a breath, and looked at Wednesday very, very seriously. She wondered if he was stupid enough to attempt to bite her: he wouldn’t be the first vampire to attempt it.</p><p class="p1">“What about—what about this?”</p><p class="p1">With supernatural speed, he cupped her face, and — he didn’t bite it, in fact, he <em>kissed</em> her, full on the lips.</p><p class="p1">She reeled back, pushing him away, her face twisting in disgust.</p><p class="p1">“Again?” she hissed.</p><p class="p1">And before he could respond, she ran him clean through with the stake.</p><p class="p1">There was a look of surprise in his face, his lips forming a perfect ‘o’ shape, before he exploded into dust. She coughed as it hit her.</p><p class="p1">Her breath was coming heavy. Though she would be loathe to admit it, it had shaken her. She hadn’t expected to see someone she knew on the other side of the coffin, let alone Brian of all people. Though, perhaps, knowing how desperate the vampire was, she should have put two and two together.</p><p class="p1">She swept the dust of the man who was once her one night stand off her dress, and grabbed at her torch again.</p><p class="p1">“Goodbye, Brian,” she said into the now-empty mausoleum, before turning and making her way up the stairs again.</p><p class="p1">It wouldn’t bring Lily’s dog back, but at least this would stop anymore children’s pets being drunk.</p>
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